Take It Fast, Make It Slow
by coloursflyaway
Summary: Sometimes, Harry calls Eggsy by his birth name in bed. Eggsy calls Harry 'sir' in return. Has a sequel called "Inside A Dream".


"Gary." There is a soft voice uttering just a single word, and yet Eggsy's breath gets caught in his throat for a moment. He shouldn't be surprised, he knows it, because Harry has always been able to read him so well, always knew what he needed, and yet he is. Maybe because he's still not used to it, even after all those months; there is something so strange still about being take care of like Harry is taking care of him.  
And yet Eggsy loves every second of it.

Without answering, he closes the door behind him, before he turns around to look at Harry, who is still dressed in fine trousers and a pristine, white shirt, his tie in a Windsor knot. The leather straps of his shoulder holster are fixing the gun to Harry's chest, and Eggsy's mouth goes dry; whether he knows it or not, Harry looks like a stepped right out of one of his wet dreams.

"Sir", he answers, bowing his head without noticing it. It's already starting, a soft tingling going down his spine, his tense muscles relaxing.  
In the last four days, he killed more than thirty people, broke twice as many laws and yet Eggsy feels vulnerable, small when he walks closer to Harry, falls down to his knees when he's between Harry's spread legs.

It's from this perspective that Eggsy likes to look at Harry best, when the older man is watching him, guiding him. When he looks as superior and strong as he will always be to him.  
Eggsy takes a deep breath, smelling expensive cologne and gun powder, feels himself shiver and his thoughts slowing down, becoming more centred. It's what Harry does to him, always has done.  
"How have you been?", Harry asks, the melody of his voice as familiar to Eggsy by now as his own. "Have you been good?"

Of course, Harry knows if he's been good - it's his job to watch over Eggsy, not just here but also in the field - but still, Eggsy nods, before he lets his head rest on Harry's knee. His eyes slide closed for a few moments, and when he opens them again, it's because Harry's hand is in his hair.  
Fingernails scrape lightly over Eggsy's scalp, and he doesn't even try to suppress the soft, pleased sound escaping his lips; even if he did, there would be no use.  
"I knew you would be", Harry comments, and Eggsy leans into the touch, now knowing he deserves it, the praise, the gentle touches. "I always knew."

There have been nights in which this was enough, in which Eggsy stayed at Harry's feet until the other pulled him up into his arms, stroked his hair until he fell asleep. And there will be more nights like that, too, but not this one.  
Eggsy can feel himself calm down more and more with every brush of Harry's fingers, and yet there is a need growing inside of him alongside the adoration, the affection. Because he almost died more than once too, and he needs to prove to himself that he didn't, that he's still here, and more importantly, that Harry is too.

A few more, blissful seconds pass, then Eggsy lifts his head to look up at Harry, finding his eyes warm and dark and resting on him. He's not wearing his glasses, so it's just them, the way it should be, and Eggsy can feel excitement blooming inside of him.  
"May I, sir?", he asks, not even going into the details, because Harry most likely knew this was going to happen from the second Eggsy entered the room. "Please, I missed you..."

The fingers in his hair don't stop, continue playing with his hair, but Harry's expression changes just slightly, goes darker, hungrier.  
"Of course", he replies, and Eggsy can feel a smile curling the corners of his mouth upwards. "But remember what we talked about last time, Gary. It's no use to me if you push yourself too hard. Slow and steady."

It's such a strange thing, because even his mother only calls him by his birth name when she is cross with him, and yet the two syllables make him shiver when Harry is using them. Somehow it feels like a secret, something just between the two of them.  
"Yes, sir", he replies, even if he knows he might try to take too much again, just because it's hard to tell when to stop when Harry Hart is involved for him.

Without a second of hesitation, Eggsy starts to slide his hands up the other's thighs, enjoying the feeling of hard muscle beneath his palms, the warmth of Harry's skin. His cock is stirring in his pants, but Eggsy hardly notices it, too concentrated on his task.  
Unbuckling Harry's expensive belt used to take a while, but by now, Eggsy has had enough practice that he has got Harry's pants open within a few seconds, sliding one of his hands inside to wrap his fingers around the older man's cock. It's half hard already, confirming Eggsy's assumption that Harry knew this would happen before he did, and Eggsy can feel his breath hitch when he pulls it out.

Harry's cock is hot in his hand, thick and just long enough that the head rubs against parts of him Eggsy didn't know existed whenever Harry fucks him. Eggsy licks his palm once, twice, gets it slick enough so he can give Harry a few strokes, before he leans in, licks at the slit.  
He can't taste more than skin and sweat yet, but Eggsy still moans a little when he sucks the head of Harry's cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it again and again.

If Harry would let him, he'd go on like this forever, worshipping the other's cock, teasing and licking and sucking, making Harry come again and again, but after just a few, short minutes, there's a hand in his hair, letting him know it's time to stop. And Eggsy, ever obedient, complies, pulls off and licks his lips.  
Harry doesn't look fazed, his hair still perfect and his eyes calm and warm; Eggsy can feel heat surging through him, leaving him dizzy.  
"Kiss me, please?", he hears himself asking before he knows it, and Harry chuckles, but leans down anyway, brushes their lips together.

Harry has always been a generous lover, and he knows just how to kiss Eggsy, slow and passionate, only licking into his mouth after a few moments. Parting his lips, Eggsy kisses back, licks at Harry's lips and sucks on his tongue, moaning softly when the older man tugs lightly on his bottom lip when he pulls away.  
Before Harry, he never knew it, but Eggsy enjoys just a slight edge of pain to go along with his pleasure, something to give it more depth, more intensity.

Although he'd want to, Eggsy doesn't thank Harry, just smiles and sits back on his legs, opening his mouth wide. Harry's hand is still in his hair, sliding to the back of his head until it comes to rest just above Eggsy's neck.  
And then Harry pulls him down.

By now, it's as natural for Eggsy as firing a gun, and he doesn't even think about it anymore when he wraps his lips around the head of Harry's cock and sinks down his shaft. At first, it was hard to relax his jaw and throat, to breathe through his nose, but, as always, practice makes perfect, and Eggsy has had a lot of practice.  
Still, although Eggsy thinks he could take much more, Harry pulls him back before his cock hits the back of his throat, gives him a second to breathe freely. He's as patient a teacher in bed as he was with mixing a martini.

Harry's cock is hot and heavy on Eggsy's tongue when he pulls him down again, making it hard to focus on everything at once, on breathing and swallowing and covering his teeth. This time, though, Harry lets him sink down further, until Eggsy has to fight against the urge to pull away.  
It's something that always happens and something which Eggsy still hates; he should be able to just take Harry, give him whatever the other wants, even if Harry insists that he doesn't mind waiting. That he likes having the privilege to train Eggsy in this way.

Again, Harry pulls him off, and again he pushes him back down his cock, setting a rhythm and making Eggsy take more and more, forcing him to stay down longer. It's a strange kind of peace, his mouth wrapped around Harry's thick shaft, but Eggsy can't remember when he ever felt as calm as this before.  
In fact, there are times at night when he's alone on some mission, and he shoves three fingers down his throat, thinks about being on his knees in front of Harry, while the other reads, has a drink, watches telly. Not even moving, just keeping still with Harry's cock deep down his throat, waiting for Harry to make use of him.

Maybe he'll find the courage to ask for that one day, or for one of those ring gags he sometimes looks at online, but for now, Eggsy is happy enough to let Harry drag his head up again, feeling the slide of his shaft against his lips.  
The breaks in between are getting shorter; the pace is still slow enough for Eggsy to press his tongue against the underside of the other's cock, but just so. Which means that it won't be long until Harry will just fuck his mouth.

The thought is enough to make Eggsy moan around Harry's cock, his own erection twitching in his pants. If he could, he'd be rutting against something by now, be it Harry's thigh or the mattress, just something to give him some relief, to take away some of the pressure. Which is why Eggsy thanks Harry for letting him stay like this, at his feet, with a particularly hard suck, because he doesn't want to concentrate on anything but Harry's smell, his taste, his hand in Eggsy's hair.

Slowly but surely, it's getting harder to breathe, but instead of panicking, Eggsy welcomes the first signs of dizziness, tries to relax his jaw further, letting Harry slide him further down on his cock. It always makes him feel twice as owned, giving Harry this amount of control over his life, even if he knows he maybe shouldn't be this eager to do so.

Again, Harry picks up his pace, forcing Eggsy to swallow hard to keep himself from gagging, tears shining in his eyes when the older man pulls him up again. It's his favourite part in this game they play here, the one where Harry's control starts to slip and Eggsy knows it's just because of him.  
Before long, Eggsy is losing himself to the sensation, focussing only on breathing and sucking and Harry. And so it takes him off guard when Harry decides it's not enough anymore to just use Eggsy's mouth like this, snaps his hips upwards to make Eggsy choke. His body wants to pull away, but Harry is holding him down, making it impossible to fight.

Harry pushes him down until the tip of Eggsy's nose is pressed against the other's stomach, the thrusts up again, groaning softly when he drives his cock deeper than ever before.  
The tears from before are running down his cheeks freely now, but Eggsy can't remember ever being this hard before, this desperate for anything as he is now for the taste of the older man's come.

Fortunately, Harry is getting close, the muscles of his thighs tensing and his breathing quickening, getting louder; although Eggsy is choking on every vicious thrust of Harry's hips, although he is dizzy with the lack of oxygen he can still read the tell-tale signs.  
Maybe it's not just Harry who knows him too well by now.

Three, four more deep thrusts, and Eggsy feels like he is going to pass out, either because he cannot breathe or because his cock is so hard there can't be enough blood left for the rest of his body; Harry comes with the fifth one, forcing Eggsy's head down until he is pressed up against the other's stomach.  
Like this, he can't escape, can't do anything but swallow as much of Harry's come as he possibly can, the muscles of his throat spasming and milking Harry's cock dry.

It feels like an eternity has passed before Harry pulls Eggsy back up, his hands gentle now. There is come dribbling down his lips and chin as Eggsy gulps down air, Harry's hand brushing over his cheek, down his neck.  
"You did so well", Harry mutters, and although he's still struggling to breathe, Eggsy soaks up the praise, leans into Harry's touch, as if it was the only thing that grounded him. "Such a perfect boy, I'm so proud of you..."

Slowly, Eggsy can feel his breathing evening out, Harry's words bringing him back to reality, the taste of come still on his tongue and lips.  
"Did I- was I good?", Eggsy asks, his voice hoarse and wrecked, not because he hasn't heard Harry before, but because he needs to hear it again and again, until he can be certain he won't ever forget it. And Harry indulges him, smiles and cards his fingers through Eggsy's hair.  
"You were. You always are."

He's so hard it hurts, and yet Eggsy knows that, should Harry tell him to go to sleep like this, he would without a second thought, but Harry is as kind as he always is. His hand wanders down to Eggsy's shoulder, until the other can grip his arm, pulls him up to his feet, before Harry spins him around, pulls him back onto his lap.  
It's another thing that Harry sometimes does and which drives Eggsy crazy, just manhandling him into whatever position the other wants him in. Because no matter how strong Eggsy is, Harry always seems to be stronger.

"Tell me what you want, Gary", Harry mutters against his neck, bites his earlobe, and Eggsy shivers, lets his head fall back against the other's shoulder. "You deserve a reward, you were so good for me..."  
Maybe he wouldn't have asked for it, but Harry offers a reward, so there is no way he can stay silent.  
"Make me come, please, sir", Eggsy pleads before Harry has even finished the sentence, spreading his legs and just about suppressing the urge to thrust up into the air in order to at least rub against the fabric of his pants.  
Harry chuckles against his neck, but still reaches around Eggsy, slides a warm, large hand down his stomach, the heat even reaching Eggsy's skin through his shirt.

He's teasing, so Eggsy bites his lips to keep quiet, because a Kingsman doesn't beg, doesn't curse, and because Harry wants him to be a perfect Kingsman so much. Still, there is only so much Eggsy can take, and when Harry opens his pants and slides his hand inside, there is nothing Eggsy can do but mutter a curse and Harry's name under the same breath; although it's barely a touch it feels like he's about to explode already.  
His hips are snapping up on their own accord now, and Harry is chuckling affectionately, biting and mouthing at Eggsy's neck while he pulls out his cock, giving the head a little pinch.

"Harry, Harry, please", Eggsy mutters like a prayer, hands clutching at his thighs, because he doesn't know where else to put them. "Please, Harry, I need- just-"  
He never gets to finish his sentence, and that's alright, because Harry always knows what he needs better anyway. The older man wraps his fingers tightly around Eggsy's aching cock, starts to stroke him slow and steady.

Harry could make him come within a few seconds, but he draws it out, stops just before Eggsy comes once, twice, thrice, until there are more tears running down his cheeks, mingling with the ones he hasn't wiped away yet. The pleasure every touch brings is so intense by now that it's almost painful, makes him sob.  
Eggsy loses track of time, and it seems like a century has passed when Harry finally shows some mercy, tightens his fist around Eggsy's cock.  
"Come for me", he whispers directly into Eggsy's ear, hot breath fanning out over his skin, and the command and Harry's next strokes are enough to finally push Eggsy over the edge.

Usually, his orgasms are quieter, gentler ones, but this one hits Eggsy like a wave, an explosion which spreads from his lower stomach to his fingertips, his toes. His skin is tingling, his breath coming in gasps, and Eggsy can't even think anymore, the sensation too overwhelming for that.  
And Harry keeps stroking him through it, milking even the last drops of come from him, and holding Eggsy close even after he has rode out even the last aftershocks of his orgasm.

"Better?", Harry asks quietly after a few minutes have passed, his voice soft and affectionate as he nuzzles Eggsy's jaw, leaving little kisses on his neck. He doesn't sound as commanding anymore, and although Eggsy loves that side of him, he likes the gentle, tender Harry better still.  
"Yeah", he replies when he finds his voice again, even if it's wrecked and breathless. "Always. Ya jus' know how to spoil me."

The words make Harry laugh softly, which makes Eggsy smile in return, melting further into the other's embrace.  
"I've had enough time to find out about that", Harry says and Eggsy silently agrees; the last months felt like an eternity and yet like no time at all. "And I'm sure I'll find out about a few more ways still."  
"Sap." The word comes out sounding a lot more affectionate than Eggsy planned it to, and Harry rewards it with a small kiss to his pulse point, so he can't really mind it.  
"Well, excuse me for wanting to keep you around a bit longer."

Harry wraps his arms around Eggsy's waist a little tighter, hums against his neck, and although it would be a horrible position to fall asleep, Eggsy can feel his eyelids drooping already.  
"Ya still a sap", he states, trying to suppress a yawn, while he tilts his head back enough to capture Harry's lips in a sloppy, awkwardly-angled kiss. "Who should be glad I intend on letting 'im stay."

This time, Harry doesn't laugh, instead kisses Eggsy again, softer this time; even if the angle is still strange, it feels damn close to perfect.  
"That I am, Eggsy. That I am."


End file.
